The captain was opening a second door on the other side of the tiny room. Ann could sense that this was the room containing the shield. The second door grated open. Beyond was a room carved from solid bedrock. The only way out was through the door, and the outer room that contained the shield, and then the second door.
The House of Rahl knew how to build a secure dungeon.
Nyda's hand gripped Ann's elbow, commanding her into the room beyond.
Even Ann, as short as she was, had to duck as she stepped over the high sill to get through the doorway. The only furniture inside was a bench carved from the stone of the far wall itself, providing both a seat and a bed off the floor. A tin ewer full of water sat on one end of the bench. At the opposite end was a single, folded, brown blanket. There was a chamber pot in the corner. At least it was empty, if not clean.
Nyda set the lamp on the bench. "Nathan said to leave you this."
Obviously it was a luxury the other guests weren't afforded.
Nyda stepped one leg over the sill, but paused when Ann called her name.
"Please give Nathan a message for me? Please? Tell him that I would like to see him. Tell him that it's important."
Nyda smiled to herself. "He said you would say those words. Nathan is a prophet, I guess he would know what you would say."
"And will you give him that message?"
Nyda's cold blue eyes looked to be weighing Ann's soul. "Nathan said to tell you that he has a whole palace to run, and can't come running down to see you every time you clamor for him."
Those were almost the exact words she had sent down to Nathan's apartments countless times when a Sister had come to her with Nathan's demands to see the Prelate. Tell Nathan that I have a whole palace to run and I can't go running down there every time he bellows for me. If he has had a prophecy, then write it down and I will look it over when I have the time.
Until that moment, Ann had never truly realized how cruel her words had been.
Nyda pulled the door shut behind her. Ann was alone in a prison she knew she could not escape.
At least she was near the end of her life, and could not be held as a prisoner for nearly her entire life, as she had held Nathan prisoner for his.
Ann rushed to the little window. "Nyda!"
The Mord-Sith turned back from the second door, from beyond the shield Ann could not cross. "Yes?"
"Tell Nathan… tell Nathan that I'm sorry."
Nyda let out a brief laugh. "Oh, I think Nathan knows you're sorry."
Ann thrust her arm through the door, reaching toward the woman. "Nyda, please. Tell him.. tell Nathan that I love him."
Nyda stared at her a long moment before she pushed the outer door closed.
Kahlan lifted her head. She gently laid a hand on Richard's chest as she turned her ear toward the sound she'd heard off in the darkness. Beneath her hand, Richard's chest rose and fell with his labored breathing, but, even at that, she felt relief-he was still alive. As long as he was alive she could fight to find a solution. She wouldn't give him up. They would get to Nicci. Somehow, they would get to her.
A quick glance to the position of the quarter moon told her that she'd been asleep less than an hour. Clouds, silvery in the moonlight, had silently begun streaming in from the north. In the distant sky she saw, too, the moonlit wings of the black-tipped races that always trailed them.
She hated those birds. The races had been following them ever since Cara had touched the statue of Kahlan that Nicci said was a warning beacon.
Those dark wings were never far, like the shadow of death, always following, always waiting.
Kahlan recalled all too well the sand in that hourglass statue trickling out. Her time was running out. She had no actual indication of what would happen when the time that sand had represented finally ran out- but she could imagine well enough.
The place where they had set up camp, before a sharp rise of rock with a stand of bristlecone pine and thorny brush to one side, wasn't as protected or tenable a camp as any of them would have liked, but Cara had confided that she was afraid that if they didn't stop, Richard wouldn't live the night.
That whispered warning had set Kahlan's heart to pounding, brought cold sweat to her brow, and swept her to the verge of panic.
She had known that the rough wagon ride, slow as it had been while they made their way across open country in the dark, seemed to have made it more difficult for Richard to breathe. Less than two hours after they had started out, after Cara's warning, they'd been forced to stop. After they had stopped, they were all relieved that Richard's breathing became more even, and sounded a little less labored.
They needed to make it to roads so that traveling would be easier on Richard, and so they could make better time. Maybe after he rested the night, they could make swifter progress.
